Roar of Thunder
by Quill and Brush
Summary: When Harry doesn't make it to Hogwarts for their third year, Hermione's life gets weird, but not nearly as weird as Harry's is. Or, Harry becomes a Spartan and comes back to kick Death Eater ass. Rated T for infrequent moderate language and non-graphic violence. And Death Eater ass.
1. Prologue 1

The first of September 1993 proceeded as it had for many years. Parents sent students off to school for a new year, kids reconnected with friends after the summer hols, and people walked through the wall between Platforms 9 and 10 of King's Cross Station. Yes, everything was normal. All except for the apparent absence of a single boy.

Hermione Granger spent the 27 minutes between when she was dropped off by her parents until two minutes 'til 11 o'clock, when the train was scheduled to depart, searching the station for Harry Potter, her best friend. She knew that his uncle usually dropped him off a little after half ten, right about when she arrived, and so she was looking for him so they could get a compartment together. But when the redheaded Weasley herd arrived with no sign of Harry, she sighed and followed Ron, youngest of the Weasley boys and her and Harry's friend, to whichever compartment he found for lack of anywhere better.

Hermione spent the long train ride between reading her third year course work for the third time, checking over her summer homework for the fourth time, watching Ron play Exploding Snap with Dean and Seamus and wondering why boys liked it when things blew up for the tenth time, and worrying about why Harry hadn't been on the train.

After running through several possible solutions, she finally settled on Professor Dumbledore having brought Harry to Hogwarts early in order to protect him from Sirius Black, betrayer of the Potters, right hand of Voldemort, first escapee of Azkaban, and all-around evil dude – or at least that's what the papers said. Hermione sighed, hoping that was all it was, and went back to her book, the snapping of playing cards echoing through the train car.

Hermione was very confused. After the train had arrived and she disembarked, she followed Ron, Dean, and Seamus into the castle, only to be intercepted by the Deputy Headmistress and her Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, who led her to her office to 'discuss' her busy schedule – in other words, give Hermione what she called a Time Turner, a small device on a necklace that would allow her to travel back a short amount of time. After an example turn, and many warnings to not abuse this privilege, McGonagall led Hermione to the great hall before leaving to escort the first years. Hermione then crossed the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table, searching for Harry the entire time. But she had yet to see a trace of him! Even during the opening feast, not one peep from or about him, and so, after the first years were led from the hall and the rest of the students dismissed, she stood and made her way to where Professor McGonagall was conversing with another professor, Filius Flitwick.

"Excuse me, Professor," Hermione put in when she noticed a slight lull in the conversation. McGonagall glanced at her before nodding and returning to Flitwick and ending their conversation on a 'we'll finish this later' note.

McGonagall turned to Hermione as Flitwick left. "How can I help you, Miss Granger?"

"I was just wondering if you knew where Harry was."

"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall inquired, receiving a nod. "No, is there some reason you thought I might?"

Hermione shrunk into herself a little. "No, not really, I just haven't seen him – not at the station or on the train or during the feast – and I thought he might have been brought to Hogwarts early?" After several moments of silence, she looked up to see McGonagall frozen with an expression of shock on her face. "Professor?"

After regaining her mental faculties, McGonagall finally responded. "So Mr. Potter is not here?" Hermione nodded, now slightly frightened, and McGonagall shook her head. "Come with me, Miss Granger," she said, turning to walk away.

Hermione followed, and they walked through the corridors in silence, broken only by McGonagall giving the password to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. After climbing the stairs and being bade enter, they saw Headmaster Dumbledore sitting behind his desk with what appeared to be paperwork arrayed around him. He smiled at the two of them, eyes twinkling behind half-moon glasses. "Well, now," he began. "How can I help the two of you?"

McGonagall spoke up before Hermione even had the chance to decide if she should begin or not. "Miss Granger, here, has informed me that Mr. Potter is nowhere to be found." The Headmaster froze for a moment, before he steepled his hands in front of his face, his expression shifting into one of intense concentration.

After a period of time that could have been anywhere from several seconds to a few minutes, Dumbledore broke the silence. "Miss Granger, have you let anyone else know that Mr. Potter isn't here?" Receiving a negative, he sighed. "I'm sad to say that I don't know where he is, but I assure you that I will get my best people on it, and he won't stay missing for long. However, in the meantime, I don't want you to draw attention to his absence. If anyone asks, simply say that you don't know. The official cover story will be that, due to this business with Black, I have secreted him away to remain safe and receive training. Understand?" A nod from the two witches brought a slight smile to Dumbledore's face. "Good, good… If that is all, I've got some start-of-year parchmentwork that requires doing." Seeing no argument, he smiled and returned to his work.

After climbing down from the Headmaster's office, McGonagall stopped Hermione from making her way towards the Grand Staircase, offering an ear to listen if needed, before sending her on her way.

Hermione finally arrived in her dorm shortly after midnight, to find that she was the only one still awake, or at least the only girl in her year. She performed her nightly ablutions and settled down for the night. Her last thoughts for the evening were _'I can't believe Professor Dumbledore allowed Dementors here'_ , _'I need to research Dementors'_ , and _'I hope Harry's okay'_.

* * *

Cornelius Fudge was concerned. He had been subject to, and heard tell of, several – subtle – inquiries into the whereabouts of one Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, which was, of course, not a good thing. Imagine! All the bad publicity this could bring! Not only was he the Minister for Magic for the first escape from Azkaban, now he was also the Minister who lost the hero of the wizarding world!

If only he hadn't – no! He couldn't dwell on it. If he didn't dwell on it, no one could connect him with it. Yes, he just had to forget about it, and it would go away. And maybe, he could even be the Minister to bring back the Boy Who Lived…

Yes, that would make for excellent publicity… Now, he only had to figure out where Harry went.

* * *

Hermione's third year at Hogwarts was… different. Her best friend from the last two years was nowhere to be found, her other friend from the last two years decided that she was too dull to be friends with, and her two new friends were very different from her old friends – or at least different from Ron; Harry would probably fit right in.

The first of her new friends was Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor in her year. Without Ron or Harry to sit next to, Hermione ended up sitting next to him in several of their classes early in the year, and she found that, besides a lack of self-confidence, he was a great friend. She decided that Neville would replace Ron in her circle of friends, and that she needed to help him build confidence.

Her second new friend she met by chance. She literally ran into Luna Lovegood, a second year Ravenclaw, on their way into the library, and they talked. Hermione soon discovered that the girl had a frightening lack of self-worth – she was being bullied in the worst ways, nearly physical torture, and wouldn't stand up for herself. She then decided to take the younger girl under her wing, show her how to stand up to the bullies – and that she deserved to – and the two were soon as inseparable as two girls in different years and houses could be.

She found she greatly enjoyed her new classes, at least once she dropped Muggle Studies – the professor hardly knew anything about the non-magical world, she even mispronounced electricity! – and Divination – she didn't necessarily deny the existence of prophecy, but all that class taught was parlour tricks: tea leaves, palms, tarot cards, the like. The rest of her classes – with the exception of Potions, of course – were all amazing. Charms and Transfiguration were as exciting as usual, History of Magic, Herbology, and Astronomy were as interesting as usual, Potions was as disappointing as usual, and Defence Against the Dark Arts was actually being taught competently! Her three electives had proven to be just as exciting, with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy joining Charms and Transfiguration as exciting and Care of Magical Creatures joining History of Magic, Herbology, and Astronomy as interesting.

In addition to friends and classes, there were other differences between her first two years and this year, namely the fact that there were no grand adventures slated for the end of the year. In first year, there was the obstacle course with a Cerberus and giant chess sets, among other things. Second year, there was the whole deal with the basilisk. This year, however, the biggest trouble was Hermione trying to save Buckbeak the Hippogriff from the bully Draco Malfoy. True, there were still Dementors surrounding the school, and true, Sirius Black was still at large, but the Ministry was actively hunting Black down, and as soon as they found him, the Dementors would leave, so they really didn't matter to Hermione.

Currently, Hermione was scouring the library looking for anything on animal rights, or anything similar, while Luna and Neville looked on. This was not the first time something like this had happened, as Hermione heard about Buckbeak's troubles early in the year and it was now the 6th of June. Neville had just finished his last final, Divination, and the three met up shortly thereafter, when they overheard that the Hippogriff's execution was scheduled for today. They then quickly retreated to the library to regroup.

"Oh," Hermione groaned. "There's nothing here! I can't believe that there's not a magical Animal Aid!"

"A magical animal aid?" Neville asked, as he watched Hermione stop searching and start pacing.

"Animal Aid is an organization that supports animal rights, and there should be _something_ like that here, especially since it seems that the standard magical animals are more sentient than those in the mundane world."

"What?"

"She said that magical animals, in general, are smarter than muggle animals," Luna explained.

Neville nodded to that, watching Hermione pace while mumbling under her breath. After several more minutes, Hermione sighed and slumped down at the trio's usual table. "There's got to be _some_ thing we can do…"

After a moment or two of silence, Neville spoke up. "Why don't we just set him free?"

Hermione and Luna both froze, before grinning at each other. "We'll need to work fast."

"Can't be seen."

"We need to make it look like he escaped."

"Can we do that with magic?"

"Probably…"

Neville watched the two girls go back and forth, a sense of dread growing in him. "You do realize I was joking, right?"

They ignored him, however, and continued to plot.

"Hey! I was joking!"

* * *

Hermione and Luna dragged a protesting Neville through the castle and out onto the grounds. They quickly arrived outside Hagrid's hut where Buckbeak was chained, poorly, to a stake. It was sadly easy to unchain him, and Luna displayed the surprising ability to communicate clearly with the hippogriff, leading him quietly into the forest where, once they were fairly deep, they disposed of the chain and allowed him to go free.

Rather surprisingly, the three ended up spending a large amount of watching Buckbeak frolic and receiving grateful rides around the clearing. It wasn't until a howl echoed through the woods that they realized that the sun had set and the full moon was shining. They bade goodbye to Buckbeak and watched him fly away before turning towards Hogwarts.

They arrived in a relatively large clearing that they were fairly sure was pretty close to the edge of the woods just as two dark blurs crashed into the clearing. The trio froze. One threw off the other and they discovered that one was a large, lanky wolf and the other was a shaggy, black dog. The wolf had thrown the dog, which struggled to rise, and seemed to be winning. They clashed more than once before the trio was brought to the canines' attention by a whisper from Neville. "That's a werewolf!" he grunted. "And the other one's a grim!"

Hermione slapped him on the back of the head and yelled, "Neville! Now they know we're here!"

The werewolf quickly turned to what it felt was the easier prey, lurking toward the frozen trio. The grim lunged forward first, however, and turned on the werewolf from in front of the trio. They snarled at each other and reengaged their struggle. Hermione, Luna, and Neville stood frozen in both awe and terror as the two canines battled over the right to eat them.

After several minutes, the beasts reached a stalemate, locked in a contest of strength. Soon enough, the werewolf overpowered the grim and threw it into a tree, where it fell unconscious. The werewolf loped over to the grim, making sure it was out cold, before turning toward the children who were just now realizing that they should have run when they had the chance.

Hermione, thinking quickly and mentally kicking herself for not thinking of it sooner, drew her wand and cast a quick stunner, sending the werewolf tumbling. All three children sighed in relief when Hermione cast a second, more powerful stunner at the groggy werewolf that was struggling to stand, putting it under. They then turned their attention to the grim…

Which had been replaced by a scruffy old man? The three approached with a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and concern. As they reached him, he groaned, muttering, "Note to self: don't get thrown into trees. They hurt." Luna, in typical Luna fashion, settled herself to stare into the man's closed eyes.

After a moment of watching Luna watching the man, Neville gasped, "Is that who I think it is?" His exclamation caught the man's attention, and he snapped his eyes open to meet Luna's silvery ones.

After a long moment, the man blinked, causing Luna to smile, hop up, clap, and cheer, "Yay! I win!"

And causing the others to stare at her in confusion for a moment.

Hermione was the first to regain her mental faculties, and so was the first to speak. "Hello, sir," she began, bringing the man's attention to her. "Are you okay? Why are you out here? This is the Forbidden Forest, after all. It is rather dangerous. Of course, that begs the question of why we're out here. I can assure you that we have a very good reason. We just can't tell you what it is. So I ask again, why are you out in the Forbidden Forest after dark? And for that matter, who are you?"

After several moments, during which the man stared at Hermione, head tilted in a very canine fashion before looking towards Neville. "Is this normal?" he asked, his voice rough from underuse.

Neville sighed. "Yes, unfortunately." This, of course, caused Hermione to smack him again.

The man barked out a laugh before grimacing from the pain in his abdomen. After a moment, he composed himself enough to respond. "I like them. Well, my name is Sirius Black, falsely accused, and I'm here to try to avenge my friends' deaths."

"Well, hello there, Mr. Black," Hermione huffed. "My name is Hermione Granger; this is Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. Are you alright?"

The newly introduced Mr. Black snorted. "What do you think? I've spent the last twelve years either in Azkaban or in hiding, I just got thrown into a tree, I think I've bruised my spine and busted a few ribs, and I've got three kids here who just might try to kill me." Sirius looked around at the kids: Hermione looked to be in deep thought, Neville looked to be rapidly paling – impressive considering he was already quite pale – and Luna was still quietly cheering.

Black barked out another laugh, grimaced again, and went to continue the conversation when he paused and shivered. This brought the three kids back to the present, allowing them to feel the change in atmosphere.

The temperature had dropped drastically, now feeling more like late autumn than late spring, and there was a definite feeling of dread in the air. Neville, shivering, asked, "W-what's happening?"

"Dementors," was Black's simple answer.

Hermione was the first to notice them, glancing up to see them swarming. "There has to be hundreds!" she gasped out, shock and fear ringing in her voice. "What do we do?"

Black sighed. "Do any of you know the Patronus charm?" Receiving negatives, Black sighed again. "Well then, we're doomed. It was nice knowing you."

The Dementors began to swarm closer, twirling in like a whirlpool, prolonging their victims' torture.

Black was the first to lose consciousness, his injuries and poor health – from years in Azkaban – weakening him severely.

Neville followed soon after, though whether from the Dementors or his own fear is up for debate.

Luna grasped onto Hermione's arm, fear overtaking her normal dreamy expression.

Hermione, eyes watering, reached out to the one person her mind could hold on to in this situation. As Luna went limp, Hermione sent what amounted to a prayer. _'Harry, where ever you are, I need you.'_

And then her world faded into darkness, and the roar of thunder.


	2. Prologue 2

Harry Potter's summer had been normal enough, for him at least, until Aunt Marge – no actual relation to Harry, being Vernon's sister, but she still insisted on being called Aunt Marge – arrived for a visit, bringing her vicious dog Ripper and her poisonous attitude. Harry had almost made it through the entire visit without incident. The night before Marge was scheduled to return home, at the evening meal, while filled with more alcohol than usual, Marge had made several nasty comments about Harry's parents, culminating in Harry, in a fit of righteous anger, blowing up his Aunt Marge.

No, really, that's exactly what happened.

Filled with rage and magic, Harry caused Aunt Marge to swell up like a balloon and float away. He then used this as a distraction to grab his things and scram. He spent a short time with a stray dog, large and shaggy and black, before accidentally summoning the Knight Bus – emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard – which took him to the Leaky Cauldron. He hunkered down in a room for the night, fully expecting to wake up to Aurors arresting him.

He didn't. He woke up rather late, having stayed up worrying, and slunk down into the pub for a late breakfast. Just as he was finishing, he was hailed by Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic.

"Harry Potter!" Harry jumped, turning toward the voice. "Pleasure to see you, my boy. When I heard you had had a bout of accidental magic and weren't there when the Reversal Squad arrived, I thought it would be a good idea to come down here to meet with you, have a nice little chat. Would you care to follow me? I think we'd both appreciate a bit more privacy than this."

Harry, stunned, nodded and was quickly ushered out of the pub, into and through Diagon Alley, and into the Ministry of Magic's offices. After a short moment of silence, Fudge spoke up once again.

"Now, there's no need to be afraid of me, or the Ministry, Harry. I'm just a normal wizard, and the Ministry is here to help. Now, why don't you tell me what happened last night to cause you to blow up your aunt?" After an abbreviated version of the night's events, told haltingly, Fudge nodded and resumed. "Well, now, don't you worry, your aunt has been deflated and obliviated and your house repaired by the Reversal Squad. Nothing will come of this, I assure you." Harry sighed, relieved, and after a moment, Fudge spoke up again. "Well, since you're here in the Ministry, how would you like a tour, get to know us better?"

Harry, with nothing better to do, nodded his agreement.

~RoT~

Harry sighed. He had been silently following the Minister for almost an hour now, listening to him ramble about the various departments and the jobs they did. Fudge caught the sigh and started, quickly finishing up his current ramble and fishing around for something, anything, to keep the Boy-Who-Lived's attention and interest, before coming to a decision.

"I know that standard government affairs aren't particularly interesting to boys your age, so I'm going to show you something more... mysterious."

Fudge then led Harry through the building to the ninth floor, through an unmarked door, and down a dark corridor. He showed Harry many strange and interesting things, including a model of the solar system and a fish tank full of human brains, before they found themselves in a room full of clocks.

"This, Harry, is where we study time." Fudge continued to talk about many of the rooms curiosities, and Harry listened with rapt attention, cause time travel is cool. After a short while they arrived at a large column of pulsing light. "Now this is... What did those eggheads call this, again? Ah, yes! This is a 'physical manifestation of the time stream'. This can connect now to any point in time. We try not to meddle in the past too much, cause that can be dangerous, but we have sent messages to ourselves in the future, so we know it works. Now, this panel here," he pointed, "allows us to control when we're connected to." He spun the dial forward, demonstrating.

Harry leaned toward the stream, enthralled by the glow and the mystery and the thought of time travel. He was so distracted by the wonder of it all, that when Fudge clapped a hand to his shoulder, he was taken completely off guard and knocked forward, falling into the time stream.

Fudge panicked, seeing as how he had just knocked the Boy-Who-Lived through time and, glancing at the still spinning dial, he didn't know when he was.

"Oh, this is not good."

~RoT~

Harry woke up in what he quickly recognized as a hospital room, the steady beeping of a heart monitor and the smell of antiseptic both being dead giveaways. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to allow them to adjust to the light. He was eventually able to look around, and noticed the very sterile looking white walls that appeared rather futuristic.

"Wha-," Harry muttered, pausing at the roughness to his voice. "Where am I?"

"You are currently in the infirmary ward, in the London branch of the Office of Naval Security," a voice answered. Harry jumped, groaning, at the sudden intrusion. "Please be careful," the voice returned. "You may heal extraordinarily fast, but you are still injured."

Harry looked around the room, confused at not being able to find the source of the voice. "Who's there? Where are you?"

"My name is Florence," the voice replied, before a glowing woman appeared. "I am the AI tasked with the care of the infirmary ward and its occupants." She was a pretty woman, though she was glowing pink, who wore a modern nursing uniform and a lace kerchief on her head. Harry couldn't make out much color, because it was washed out by the pink glow.

Harry, in typical Gryffindor fashion, ignored the less immediate questions. "What happened?"

Florence made a bit of a face, as though ashamed. "We are... unsure. You appeared in a sealed facility. When you were found, you were unconscious, concussed, and it appeared as if your body had tried to... eat itself."

Harry pondered this for a moment or two. 'Magical exhaustion?' He was quiet for a moment more before asking, "How long was I out?"

"We aren't certain, given that you were unconscious when we found you, but you have been under my care for four days now."

"What day is it?"

"Today is Thursday, August 12, 2539 SEY."

~RoT~

After that startling revelation, Harry was lost. 500 years? What? He was lost in depression for several days, without a purpose. His friends would all be dead! He wouldn't know anything! Oh, the woe!

While in his lost state, he continued healing, and the day before he was released, he was approached by a human doctor/scientist type person, an actual physical person, not a glowing ghost person. This person went through some of the questions he had answered to the AI and some other things, including where he was from – he decided that time travel probably wasn't the best thing to lead off with, so in a decidedly un-Gryffindor fashion he settled on maintaining a cover of amnesia, telling them his name and nothing else.

Harry was given a choice. Seeing as he was 13, he could be put in an orphanage where he would live until he was 18, going to school and such – unless he was adopted before then, but that was, unfortunately, rather unlikely, due to the influx of war orphans and the fact that most children were adopted before they turned 5.

His second option was less mundane. He could join the military. Harry was told about an initiative to train embittered war orphans into soldiers that were the best of the best, and that the doctor in charge of his recovery had been contacted by the leaders of this initiative. They said that he had been flagged during his recovery. They said something about some cells in his body – midi- something or other – being extraordinarily high. Harry was warned that it would be a hard journey, that there was no guarantee he would succeed, and that he wouldn't come out unchanged, but that he could make a difference – this sounded to Harry like a speech that had been repeated many times.

Harry thought over his options and decided that he didn't want to be an orphan any more, and that he would like to make a difference.

And so, Harry was released from the infirmary into the tender mercies of Kurt Ambrose, Franklin Mendez, and Camp Currahee.

~RoT~

Harry spent the next three and a half years going through the rigorous training that was required to qualify for the next step of the process to become a SPARTAN, which he did, with flying colors. Harry was one of about 350 recruits to be brought into the augmentation process, twenty of which did not make it through the process hale and hearty, due to various complications with the surgical procedure. At 16, he was by far the oldest to go through the surgery, but Harry's magic allowed his body to adapt and recover quickly.

Shortly thereafter, he was approached by Lieutenant Ambrose with a change in assignment. The Lt. said that Harry was one of a few who were to be brought out of the regular rank and file of Beta Company and be put into a much more specialized unit. Harry agreed, though he wasn't given much of a choice, and was quickly introduced to Philomena-B314, who would become Harry's partner for the foreseeable future – their respective skill sets complimented each other to the point where they would be sent on many missions together in the coming years.

Harry found in Mena, as she preferred to be called, a kindred spirit and a sister, and they became so close as to be inseparable. Mena, in particular, and the rest of the SPARTANs in general, helped Harry come out of his shell somewhat, and he quickly realized that, when not on duty, he could be the kid he never had the chance to be, so instead of becoming hardened by military training, Harry came out much more well-adjusted than before.

About a month into their partnership, Harry brought Mena into a meeting with Lieutenant Ambrose, where he revealed his magic to them, and the fact that he had time-traveled. After an interesting discussion, Harry got leave to go back to Britain for what amounted to a research trip to try to find anything that could help the SPARTANs become a better fighting force. He didn't find much, just a single book on runes. He found in this book, after some trial and error, a way to duplicate ammo in the magazine, though not fast enough to prevent a need for reloading. These runes could only be used by himself and those regularly nearby, though, because they were powered by his magic, so he limited them to himself and Mena, and the knowledge to himself, Mena, and the Lt.

About a year later, Harry picked up an Energy Sword from a downed Elite, which he quickly outfitted with another set of runes that, essentially, charged the sword's battery using his magic. His next assignment, he stumbled upon a handful of daggers and combat knives that functioned similarly, and they, too, received runes. He divided up the daggers and knives with Mena, keeping the sword, a dagger, and four of the knives, with Mena taking two daggers and seven knives.

Harry and Mena became known as Fireteam Phoenix, because when he was asked, Harry had been going through a bout of nostalgia and could only think of Fawkes. Harry became a sniper and assassination specialist, and Mena focused on close quarters combat and assassination. Fireteam Phoenix was often sent in to take out high-priority targets, Harry's confirmed kills including several high-ranking generals in the Covenant – he even took a potshot at a Prophet once.

Fireteam Phoenix was actually half of Fireteam Thunderbird, though they rarely worked as a full fireteam. Thunderbird was, essentially, the combination of Fireteams Phoenix and Thunder – Pyotr-B402 and Adam-B009, two heavy weapons specialists, generally focused on shock and awe.

And so, Harry's military service continued apace, and, in late May 2545, he was assigned Operation: NOVA.

~RoT~

24 May 2545 – aboard _Vehement Absolution_ – skies above Actium

Operation: NOVA

Nova 1: SPARTAN Joseph-B193 – Fireteam Leader  
Nova 2: SPARTAN Amélie-B030 – Technology Officer  
Nova 3: SPARTAN Harry-B137 – Designated Marksman  
Nova 4: SPARTAN Philomena-B314 – CQC Specialist  
Nova 5: SPARTAN Pyotr-B402 – Heavy Weapons Specialist  
Nova 6: SPARTAN Gabriela-B224 – Medical Officer  
Mission Objective: Insert a Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine on _Vehement Absolution_ to be remotely fired, destroying the ship.

 _The SPARTANs had successfully infiltrated the Covenant ship_ Vehement Absolution _, and cleared the hanger bay they were to use as the insertion point for the slipspace bomb. As they waited for the Pelican to land, carefully placing its precious and volatile cargo in position to unleash its deadly blast in the most effective way possible, the SPARTANs of NOVA Team stood vigilant, prepared for the enemy that would-_

"Harry, are you narrating again?" a voice called, breaking through his inner monologue. Harry grimaced, unseen behind his helmet, and turned to his partner.

"Of course not, Mena," Harry responded, grinning beneath his helmet. He continued on, fake dramatics in his voice. "How could you accuse me of such a thing?"

"Because I know you." Harry could _feel_ the raised eyebrow.

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough."

"If you two are done flirting," Joe-B193, their CO for this mission, put in, "then get back on watch. We are still in hostile territory, after all."

"Don't worry, Joe," Harry grinned. "We got this. You go back to staring at Amy's ass."

Mena sighed from beside him. "I'll keep him in line, sir."

Joe-B193 turned back to watching Amy-B030 work, grumbling, though Harry was certain he was blushing.

Pyotr-B402 guffawed from where he was laid out on his back, being tended to by Gabi-B224. A single needler round had gotten through his shields and imbedded itself in his armor. "Ah, Harry! Always good for a laugh!" His heavily accented voice thundered in the relatively small hanger bay.

Harry grinned, shouldering his M392, having never actually stopped scanning the entrances to the hanger bay. He heard Mena's M739 click twice, safety on and off, their personal code for a job well done. He could see the laughter in her shoulders.

Harry scanned the hanger quickly, seeing no hostiles, as it had been for the last ten minutes that they had been standing there. They were in a corner of the bay, where they had a good view of all three entrances: two for personnel and a single large access for ships.

Harry and Mena stood there, eyes on the entrances, for some time, Harry quickly getting bored even though he maintained military-level concentration. They were eventually joined by Pyotr-B402, having been patched up by Gabi-B224, his HMG pointed down range and spinning slowly.

They remained mainly unmolested, only having two grunts and a jackal wander in, all three dispatched easily and quietly.

Amy-B030 grunted as she shut the hatch on the side of the drive, before standing. "Alright, the thing's primed. In five minutes, it'll ping a signal to Nova-Actual, who will piggy-back a fire code back in, which will cause it to launch, tearing this ship in half. Therefore, we have five minutes to get out of range."

Joe-B193 nodded, turning to the rest of the squad. "You heard her, team. Load up and get back on that Pelican."

Pyotr-B402 turned and stowed his HMG, lifting all of the gear for the team and booking it after the other three, Harry and Mena taking overwatch. Gabi-B224 slid into the cockpit of the Pelican and began turning the engines, as Amy-B030 prepared her gear for flight and Pyotr-B402 and Joe-B193 took up covering positions in the rear of the bird. Joe-B193 then signaled Harry and Mena to move up.

' _Harry, where ever you are, I need you.'_

Harry froze halfway through his first step, catching Mena's attention. "Harry? What's up?"

Harry shook his head, trying to clear the sudden fog. "I… don't really know… There was a voice, not through the radio or anything like that. It kinda just… echoed in my head."

After a moment of confused silence, Mena hummed, concerned. "Well, first things first, we need to get off of this bucket. We can psychoanalyze later."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, let's…" He trailed off, though. A voice filtered through the haze of memory. A voice from the past. "Hermione…"

Mena paused again. "What?"

Harry turned to her, eyes wide behind his helmet. "Hermione needs me!" And then, in a burst of energy and instinct, Harry spun on his heel.

And then his world faded into darkness, and the roar of thunder.


End file.
